


Fate Shall Surely Follow

by lakesideminuet



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Conflict Resolution, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lakesideminuet/pseuds/lakesideminuet
Summary: EmetWol Week 2020 @emetwolweek on Twitter! Possible sexual content in the future? Not sure yet, it's planned but it may not come to fruition. Tags and rating just in case, will adjust as necessary.
Relationships: Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 27
Kudos: 89





	1. Light & Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to keep up with this but medical school sucks and my life was crazy prior to now and had no time. So if I fall behind, I'll post them when they're finished but I just wanted to participate because I had some inspiration that I didn't want to lose! I hope you all enjoy this. 
> 
> No sexual content in this one. I'll include a warning at the start of any of the chapters that have some.

She had always been his light.

Illuminating even the darkest of moments. She was there.

To make him smile, even when he felt the world was falling apart around him. To make him laugh, even when he wanted nothing more than to cry.

How fitting that the one to free him, here at the end, was Azem herself.

He had said so, had he not? That wherever she may go, fate would follow.

Images flashed through his mind as the Light gathered in her hand, as he took in the fierce determination in her brow…

The very same Light he had come to detest, having spent so long with his mind ensnared, so long in the clutch of the shadows that he had nearly forgotten just now _radiant_ she was.

“Hades,” she called, her sing-song voice ringing through his head as the memory took hold, a laugh barely hidden. “Don’t be so glum!”

“My inspiration is lacking as of late,” he complained. He could not think of anything, could not fabricate even the smallest Concept.

“It’s because you’re thinking too hard!” she teased, her laughter breaking through. 

“Not everyone can be a free spirit; not everyone can flit back and forth, to and fro.”

“Maybe not, but not everyone grumbles about, lamenting their lack of creativity either.”

He narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance.

“We are more than our creations, Hades,” she said in a rare display of straight-faced seriousness. “We are a sum of all our deeds. You do more than enough for Amaurot. Believe in yourself, in the title you have been bestowed.”

She had been right, of course. He was too hard on himself. But hearing it from her, from the single soul he trusted in and sought approval of more than any other… had lifted a weight off his shoulders. 

And once she had seen him deflate, the stress leaving his body visibly, she giggled as she wisped away into a portal, off to another adventure in a land he had likely never seen. “Most eminent Emet-Selch.”

Another memory flashed through his mind, more vivid and complete, of a time before the Convocation when Emet-Selch and Azem had been merely Hades and his dearest friend. How their lives had been filled with laughter, and loathe as he was to admit it, mischief.

How often he had gotten caught by her side in a wing of the Akadaemia they were not permitted to roam. How frequently he had been coaxed to abandon a lecture… to live a little, she had said.

“We mustn’t,” Hades insisted, hissing under his breath as she guided him through the back entrance of the hall. “They will know.”

“Don’t be so tense! They’ll never know. There are _hundreds_ of us.”

She had been right, of course. They had never been caught leaving the lecture hall, and his absence was only taken note of when he himself had brought it to the instructor’s attention through a slip of his tongue.

And yet, even after being caught, he still would follow her. Still, he would join her when she would gently pull on his hand, having nodded off one too many times as the lecturer droned on and on.

“I’m bored,” she whined, leaning into him in a way that was far too much for the Akadaemia. Despite everyone knowing, despite the nature of their relationship.

“Not again,” Hades lamented in return, trying to lean away from her lest anyone notice their display. But she followed. “I cannot afford another scathing-”

“Then don’t admit it, silly.” A gentle tug on his hand. “Come.”

With a sigh, he clenched his jaw before giving her a slight nod, and the pair of them would wait until the lecturer had turned toward the other side of the hall before slipping into the shadows to escape.

Into the fresh air, the leaves purple with the change of season. They would make their way to their favorite hill and lay beneath their favorite tree. The breeze blowing across their faces as he held her in his arms until the two of them would drift to sleep in the afternoon sun.

As they continued to grow, as they continued to progress, the pair of them were inseparable. And then, so naturally that Emet-Selch could not pinpoint when, Hythlodaeus fit in so well amongst them. He fed off of Azem’s chaotic energy, the pair doing whatever they could to drive Emet-Selch mad. 

A perfect match to her mischievousness, in a position to provide her with the tools to do whatever she wished. She could not have found a better friend in the whole of Amaurot for herself. And for him as well, for he could not have asked for a better companion when Azem went on her prolonged journeys. 

“You should have _consulted_ me, Hythlodaeus,” Emet-Selch said, a deep frown on his lips.

“Now, now, Hades,” their friend mused in return, “Keep frowning like that and it’ll stick. As the chief of the Bureau-”

“You knew full well what she intended-”

“Of course, I did. But I also know that you would never _dream_ of sending her on such a venture alone. I fear, my friend, that this will be a long one.” A feline smile, leaning against his folded hands. 

It had taken nearly everything in his power not to explode all the annoyance around him in a burst of aether.

And yet, despite the frustrations, despite the aggravation they would bring him… he found he missed their antics more than anything. He longed for the days when things were simpler, when the world was whole.

As Emet-Selch watched as she released the Light, as she hurled it toward him with all her might… he could not help but breathe a sigh of relief.

How had he not _seen_ it? How she lit up the room when she entered. How she would provide witty remarks or provide entirely inappropriate answers to questions when prompted.

It seemed so obvious now. His dearest friend, reunited again. 

Expunging the Darkness within him yet again with her Light.

If only she could remember him as he remembered her. As he rematerialized, clinging onto what remained of his life, lowering the hood and greeting her with a soft smile, Emet-Selch wished beyond hope that she would never forget what they had shared.

Had he answered her questions thoroughly? Now, at the end, did he have any regrets?

Had he been honest? Did he leave anything left unsaid?

“Remember us,” he urged her, gaze locked. “Remember that we once lived.”

And when she nodded in response, her resolve strong in her eyes in the same way it always had been, he knew.

He had and would continue to return the favor. The memories and past he had been entrusted to keep. The Constellation he had given to the shade. 

Though it had not been everything, though he wished he had more time, knowing what he did now… it was enough that in this singular instance, Emet-Selch would the one to light up the shadows for Azem.


	2. Ocean & Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a lil bit of steam at the end. ;)

“There’s a storm approaching.”

“Hades, don’t you _dare_ ,” Azem hissed as she came to stand beside him on the shoreline. “It will probably be just a drizzle.”

“No, look,” Emet-Selch insisted as he raised his hand, pointing to the horizon. “The clouds, they’re darker than a _drizzle_ , my love.”

Beside him, Azem went silent. Emet-Selch peered out at her from the corner of his eye, watching as her bottom lip jutted out slightly in a pout, her eyes squinting at the cloud formation in the distance.

After a moment, she sighed and turned back toward the cottage, mere yalms away.

“You’ll see. Everything will be fine,” she said, her shoulders slumping in such a way that let her beloved know she barely believed the words she spoke.

Emet-Selch chuckled, turning as well as he draped his arm around her. He gave her a gentle nudge, gesturing toward the cottage.

“I’m sure the winds will be kind and send the storm elsewhere, or it will take its time,” he said softly, reassuringly.

Immediately, the woman brightened, her smile bright as she looked up at him, the two of them making their way back toward their home for the coming days.

“Do you really think so?!”

He hummed his affirmation. “For now, let’s get some rest, hm? We’ll re-evaluate in the morning.”

Emet-Selch awoke to the sound of raindrops on their window. Loud, insistent. The wind howled, the windowpanes shuddering with its strength. Mercifully, his love beside him was a heavy sleeper, and aside from an incoherent mumble as she turned over, she did not rouse.

He carefully extracted himself from beneath the sheets, pressing the softest of kisses to her temple once he dressed in his robe. Azem hummed in her sleep, a gentle smile spreading on her lips that he took just a moment to admire before donning his mask and turning towards the main room of their cottage. 

He sighed as he glanced out the window, watching the torrential downpour continue, the trees bending with the storm. The winds had most certainly _not_ been kind.

But… perhaps hope yet remained. With a nearly silent click of his fingers, he procured himself a barrier to the elements around his body and headed out to brave the storm.

The pair of them had spent many summers in this cottage in their youth, though their busy lives as members of the Fourteen have limited their stays in recent years. He knew without a doubt that the local villagers would have an idea of the nature of this storm. How long it would last. If it would impede their plans.

When he finally crossed through the village gates, the square was silent. Candles lit the windows of the homes though they were dispersed. The gusting wind shook the signs nearby, causing them to slam against the doors of the darkened shops.

This, he knew, was a bad sign. It took a great deal for shopowners to close down their livelihood, and as he approached the only business with lighting that he could see, he braced himself with the real possibility that he would return to his love as the bearer of bad news.

The door creaked open, the bell above it jingling. Inside, the tavern was silent, nearly empty. Clearly most other travelers had known to avoid this port town in the wake of the storm. 

_An even worse sign_ , he lamented to himself. The bartender glanced up from his stool, a mug of ale in his hand as he watched Emet-Selch approach the bar before sighing and coming to a stand to meet him.

“Brave of you to weather the storm,” he said gruffly as Emet-Selch moved to lower his hood. Such a convention was not the way of this town, he knew, but when the bartender raised his hand to stop him, he paused. “Please, I know you Amaurotines well enough by now. Leave it on. Keep yourself comfortable.”

Emet-Selch nodded, sliding onto the barstool before him. 

“It’s been quite some time, young man,” the bartender said, sliding a tankard in front of him and pouring an amber fluid into it until the foam spilled over the sides. “Ah, my apologies. Too dark for my old eyes.”

“No worries, old friend,” Emet-Selch said with a shake of his head, wrapping a hand around the tankard to pull it the rest of the way toward him. “We came for the festival this year.”

“I figured as much,” the old man replied with a fond smile. “It’s her favorite time, always has been. You both haven’t been around for a few years now; we were worried you grew bored.”

“Oh, no,” Emet-Selch chuckled with a small shrug. “Just busy with… everything.” 

The bartender gestured toward the red mask. Emet-Selch nodded in response, earning a knowing hum, something akin to pride surging in the old man’s eyes.

“I wish you would have sent a message in advance; I would have told you about the storm.”

“You’ve known of it then?”

The bartender huffed out a loud breath with a nod, chuckling hoarsely as he downed the rest of his ale once he had knocked his mug against Emet-Selch’s tankard. The Amaurotine lifted his in response, taking a large gulp before lowering it to the bar.

“The oracle of the city-state prophesied this months ago, I’m afraid. Most of the town is evacuated to the capital.”

“Why have you remained?” Emet-Selch asked, concerned for the old man as he lifted his tankard to take another swig. The bartender grinned, reaching into his pocket to pull a sheet of paper.

Emet-Selch immediately recognized it. A teleportation scroll of Amaurot’s making.

“I’ve been tasked by the mayor to stay behind and warn any travelers,” he said, waving the page around. “This will take me away to safety if the storm rages too closely.”

“Have you had many? Travelers?” Another swig of his ale. The bartender shook his head. 

“You’re among the first. I assume you’ve come together.”

“She’s asleep at our cottage,” Emet-Selch said as he nodded, looking over his shoulder to the door with a sigh. “I should get back before she wakes.”

The bartender gave a hearty chuckle as Emet-Selch downed the rest of his ale and stood from his stool. 

“A fiery one, she is,” he said, taking the empty tankard from the bar and lifting it with a nod. “You should be safe to stay in the cottage for a night or two. The worst is to come after. Stay safe, Hades.”

When Emet-Selch stepped back into the storm, he could see the lightning flash over the water, the black clouds churning ominously. Wanting to waste no further time, he opened a current back to the cottage, emerging in the main room. The portal hummed behind him as he stepped through, and he waved his hand to shut it, hoping the aetheric disturbance it caused would not wake Azem in the bedroom beyond.

But of course, when he stepped through the threshold, she was sitting up, blearily rubbing her eyes. 

“What- Are you…?”

“Shh, go back to sleep, love,” he whispered as he quickly removed his mask and robe to slip into the bed again beside her. “It’s a while yet ‘til morning.”

Azem hummed her discontent, eyeing him suspiciously before looking out the window when a flash of lightning illuminated the room. The thunder clapped loudly, mere fractions of a second later, so powerful that it shook the frames placed upon the wall.

She sighed then, looking back at Emet-Selch, her eyes filled with sadness at the realization that their trip had likely been ruined.

“It’s canceled,” she whispered, curling into his side, her hand splayed on his abdomen. “Isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replied softly, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “But we can stay as we planned nonetheless. No need to return to Amaurot just yet.”

Azem nodded slowly, exhaling a slow breath.

“Won’t the storm disrupt our stay?” she asked, barely above a whisper, the sadness palpable in her every word. She had been looking forward to this reprieve, this much Emet-Selch knew.

“We’ll find a way to protect our cottage from the storm, I’m sure,” he replied as he tilted his head down to trail soft kisses down the side of her face.

“But what will we _do_?” she lamented, taking a stray lock of his hair and twirling it around her finger idly. “The festival was all we had planned.”

In a smooth motion, he flipped them so he hovered above her, his amber eyes bearing into hers, arms outstretched on either side of her head, his long, white hair cascading over his shoulders to form a curtain around them.

“Trust me, we have plenty to do,” he whispered.

She nodded slowly, though the sadness in her eyes still gave her disappointment and uncertainty away. 

“In the morning,” he said softly, moving his hand slowly down the length of her bare side, finding purchase on her hip, “You and I will make breakfast together as we always do.”

He lowered his face closer to hers, bending his outstretched arm to lean on his elbow. 

“And then,” he continued, as he slowly traced along the waistband of her smallclothes, his fingers trailing along the skin of her abdomen, the muscles there clenching at his touch. “You and I will spend copious time soaking in each other’s company.”

She released an unsteady exhale, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she parted her legs slightly in anticipation, allowing him to settle slightly between them.

“We will spend our days, doing absolutely nothing related to the Convocation,” he breathed, brushing his lips against hers. “Or Amaurot.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her breath catching as his fingers dipped below the band, slipping easily between her legs.

“But for now,” he murmured, leaning down to press kisses along her jawline until he reached her ear, lowering his voice as he spoke. “I want nothing more than to enjoy this moment, to pull _each_ and _every_ one of those sounds I love from you.”

Her back arched as his fingers slid between her folds, a gasp slipping from her lips. 

“Ah... There’s one,” he panted into her ear, nipping at her earlobe, her nails digging into his shoulder as his fingers swirled around her swollen bud. 

“Hades,” she whimpered, her knees tightening on either side of his body as he continued his ministrations.

“Rest assured, my love; the festival was _not_ all I had planned.”


	3. I knew you once upon a time & Kiss

“Do you think… we’ll solve it in time?” A soft question, a gust of wind rendering the words nearly inaudible. The leaves that remained on the tree they settled beneath shuddered, some finally being shaken free from their branch.

Emet-Selch watched as they came to a slow fall on the ground around them. He tightened his arm around Azem.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. 

“The barrier, at least, should be ready by the morrow,” Azem whispered, her hand gripping the cloth of his robe. “Amaurot will be safe.”

 _For now, at least,_ Emet-Selch thought, running his hand along the length of her arm in an attempt to reassure her.

He could hear the shimmering sound of Creation magic throughout the city, the words of those tasked with the construction of the spires he had designed with Hythlodaeus carrying through his mind. They were nervous, unsure, but the Bureau of the Architect had assured the people that this barrier would, for the time being, hold. 

To stop the ash from raining onto the city. To stop their children from being burned.

“I still think,” Azem started, adjusting herself to lean up and peer down at Emet-Selch, both of their masks set to the side, “We should send some to investigate the cities that have already fallen. Perhaps we can learn of the source of this calamity.”

“I know,” he responded with a sigh. “As much as I am inclined to agree with you, there is little we can do without the blessing of-”

“Hades, this is no time to adhere to protocols.”

Her gaze was intense as she locked her eyes with his, her nostrils flaring just slightly with her impatience and frustration that the man she respected was proceeding so warily. Given how much was at stake.

He cleared his throat.

“I merely meant that if you and I can somehow convince the Fourteen of the value of such an expedition, we can recruit others. The more eyes we have, the better. While I am certain you and I are more than capable, my love, the reality remains that the _others_ are just as brilliant.”

Her expression immediately softened. She gave a small nod.

“Yes, of course. You’re right,” she admitted, settling again against his side.

“This is not the time for impatience,” Emet-Selch said, readjusting to hold her tightly. “We will work quickly, of course, but carelessness will get us nowhere.”

Azem sighed, nodding her head against his chest.

“Alright,” she said, her tone shifting suddenly, more cheerful. “We were supposed to come here to distract ourselves.”

“Like old times,” Emet-Selch agreed, his lips pulling up into a small smile. “Shirking our responsibilities.”

In his arms, Azem breathed a laugh. 

“Do you remember the first time I convinced you to skip lecture?” she asked, tracing idle shapes on his robe.

“There are few moments in my life I felt so overcome with anxious indigestion, so yes.”

At this, his beloved let out a genuine giggle, leaning upon her arms once more to look down at him triumphantly. 

“That was the moment, you know,” she said, as she leaned closer to him. “That was the moment I knew I had you wrapped around my finger.”

“Is that so?” Emet-Selch asked, trying without success to mask the happiness he felt in this moment, to feign indignation. His smile only widened as he watched the joy dance in her eyes when she noticed.

“Mmhmm,” she teased, her lips hovering just barely above his. “If I could convince _Hades_ , of all people, to abandon his duties, he must be smitten.”

“Completely,” he agreed with a nod, before tilting his chin up to softly press his lips to hers.

She took a deep inhale through her nose, his hands coming to cradle the sides of her face as she hummed against him, leaning further into his embrace.

Time seemed to slow, as it always did when they shared such physical closeness, and for a brief moment in time, their worries and fears were pushed aside.

But when the ground beneath them trembled, its vibration just barely there but present just the same, the two of them broke apart. Azem pressed her forehead to Emet-Selch’s, exhaling a slow sigh as they waited for the humming of the ground to come to a stop.

“The barrier won’t stop those, though,” she whispered, her eyes sliding shut as her lower lip trembled slightly.

Emet-Selch frowned, watching as worry and fear gripped his beloved, feeling her body shake slightly the longer the earth’s vibration persisted. He, himself, found himself keeping track of the tremors, timing them to see if they progressed.

Brushing his thumb along her cheekbone, he waited for her to open her eyes before offering her a lop-sided smile. He was eager to distract her, to help her think of other things as the most outstanding scholars and researchers in Amaurot tried to discern the source of the phenomena that had been occurring across the star. Within minutes they would be summoned back to the Capitol to discuss among the Fourteen which of the ideas had merit.

“Do you remember,” he started, shifting to grip her chin when she looked down at his chest. He gently coaxed her to look up at him. With an unsteady exhale, she obliged. “Our first kiss?”

She seemed momentarily taken aback by his question, though she knew immediately what his intentions were. Despite her desperation to find a solution to the star’s plight, she decided, for the moment, to play along.

She blew out a quick breath to push a wayward strand of hair out of her face, before humming as she tilted her head. 

“It seems an obvious answer,” she said after a moment with a slight roll of her eyes. “After our first major magical skills assessment.”

She watched as Emet-Selch’s lips turned up into a grin, and he shook his head. Immediately, she furrowed her brow.

“No…?” Her lower lip jutted out slightly as she chewed on it in thought. “But… we met in Creation Practices and Principles our first term. In the same group with-” She faltered when his grin widened.

“ _Did_ we?” he asked, smugness radiating off him in waves. “Meet there?” 

Azem’s eyes widened slightly before she pursed her lips, her brows drawing close together as she began to think intently. She shifted to sit up, one of her hands coming to her chin. Slowly, Emet-Selch followed her, observing her as he could practically see the cogs turning in her mind.

Azem sighed, seeming to visibly deflate as she could not seem to recall what he was referring to.

“You must be talking about your _other_ soulmate, Hades, because for the life of me…”

“Shall I show you then?” Emet-Selch placed his hand on her cheek, leaning in close to her once again, the genuine excitement in his eyes nearly taking her breath away.

With the slightest nod, his expression turned serious as he focused, conjuring up as much detail of the memory he intended to share as he possibly could. Azem waited with bated breath, reciprocating his touch by placing her hand on his cheek.

And soon, there was a pulse behind her eyes, her vision blurring until she came to within his memory.

Emet-Selch lowered his hand from her cheek, sliding it down her arm to take her hand within the realm of the Echo they shared. With a soft kiss to her forehead, he turned away, standing beside her to allow her a moment to get her bearings.

Azem looked around then, twining her fingers with his as she examined the room he had brought them to. A classroom for young children, if the bright colors on the walls and the mats on the floor had any indication. On the wall by the door, small masks dangled on hooks, each with a name above it. Though they were too far, and the labels were too small for her to make out specifics.

The room itself was empty, desks and seats neatly arranged with notebooks and supplies strewn across their surfaces, but the sound of laughter echoed around them. She looked behind herself toward the source, looking out of the window to see a class of young Amaurotines running around a playground. 

Some of them attempting to create small animals out of the sand, others passed a small ball of aether back and forth, each trying to make it slightly larger with every pass. 

“The introductory school…?” she asked, her confusion palpable as she took a step toward the window, placing a hand on the glass. 

“Do you remember?” he asked then, standing beside her, watching the scene play out before them. She sighed, shaking her head slowly, her eyes scanning the children one by one, trying to discern which was-

Emet-Selch raised his hand, gesturing to their right. Away from the majority of the children.

As Azem followed his finger, she eventually came to land on two young Amaurotines sitting on a bench. A young boy with white hair, kicking his feet idly as the girl beside him spoke animatedly-

She gasped, her eyes widening as she looked at her soulmate, her jaw dropping slightly. He smiled fondly, eyes never leaving the scene before them, nodding his head toward them to redirect her attention.

When she looked back, they were transported to stand just behind the two children.

“You should have _seen_ it, Hades!” the girl exclaimed, waving her hands in the air to imitate a magic wielder she saw the day before. “She just- And then- It was-”

Suddenly, the young Hades surged forward, pressing his lips to the girl’s cheek.

The two of them went still. The girl’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushed red. And when he pulled back from her, she looked at him with complete and total astonishment.

“You told me to distract you when you get carried away,” he explained with a shrug.

“Oh.” She raised her hand up to touch her cheek.

“That’s how my father distracts my mother, so I figured it must work.”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly, Azem was thrust back into the present. Her eyes clouded over with tears that welled up. One of them spilled forth, Emet-Selch wiping it away with a gentle stroke of her cheek.

“All this time,” she whispered. “And I- How did I not- You and I were-”

Before she could continue, he pressed his lips to hers, lingering for only a moment before pulling away, his forehead still pressed to hers.

“You were doing it again, my love,” he whispered, a strangled sob escaping Azem as she reached up with trembling hands to hold either side of his face. “Some things never change.”


	4. Sleep & Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a mediocre attempt at comedy. Thank you Eliniel for the inspiration. I love you

“Hades,” Azem whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. Emet-Selch grunted slightly in his sleep, cracking an eye open to see her watching him with bright-eyed excitement. “It’s time to leave.”

He sighed, slowly opening his eyes and sitting up. His posture was the polar opposite of the Convocation member kneeling by the bedside; where she was nearly vibrating with excitement, Emet-Selch was slumped forward, his face buried in his hands.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, dragging his hands down his face and looking over at his soulmate who was smiling brightly at him. When his hands finally landed in his lap, she quickly thrust his mask into them.

“I, for one, am happy to have you along, my dearest,” she nearly sang. “The more the merrier.”

He sat there, blinking blearily at her before slowly sliding his gaze to the window, noting the lingering darkness, the horizon just barely alight with the beginnings of a sunrise.

“Let’s get going,” Azem said then, and he looked back at her to see her standing beside an aetheric current. “Natural disasters wait for no one.”

Emet-Selch sighed yet again, swinging his legs off the side of the bed as he begrudgingly put his robe on with rough movements. He nearly stomped over to her.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asked, looking her over with an arched brow. “Your bag?”

“Check.”

“The map.”

“Mhm.”

“Medicines?”

“In the bag.”

Emet-Selch paused, his entire being detesting himself for confirming the next item: “Ifrita?”

“Oh, whoops.” He watched as Azem waved her hand, a concept crystal materializing in front of her, her sheepish smile nearly making him roll his eyes. “It wouldn’t have been the _worst_ thing if we had to turn back.”

“Wasted aether,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “Very well, onwards then. After you.”

When the pair of the emerged on the other side of her current, it was in the square of a village. The sun was high in the sky, telling Emet-Selch that their destination had been on the other side of the star. 

A young child stopped in her tracks upon seeing them and immediately made her way over. 

“Azem!” she exclaimed cheerfully. “You came back!”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Azem replied, crouching down to the youngster’s level. “Any new problems?”

The girl shook her head quickly. “Mama says it’s still sleeping,” she said.

“Good,” Azem responded, patting her on the top of her head.

“Are you going to fix the angry mountain?”

“She’s certainly going to try,” Emet-Selch chimed in with a frown. 

The child craned her neck around Azem, finally noticing the other Amaurotine still standing where they had emerged. She then looked back at his soulmate.

“He seems angry,” she whispered, though it had been loud enough for Emet-Selch to hear.

“He’ll be alright,” Azem reassured her. “I had to drag him out of bed, that’s all.”

The young girl nodded knowingly with a hum, looking back at Emet-Selch with understanding. He rolled his eyes, thankful they were obscured by his mask.

“But yes, _we_ are going to fix the angry mountain,” Azem confirmed. “Run along now, and tell your father I said to stay indoors until we return.”

As they watched the girl do as she was bid, Emet-Selch crossed his arms over his chest.

“Shouldn’t you inform the rest of the village?” he asked, dryly.

“That girl’s father is the head of the village council,” Azem replied with a knowing smile. “He will alert them shortly and the rest will follow.”

“It astounds me that this is enough for you,” he muttered with a sigh, watching as she turned toward the path passing through the center of the village. 

“I know these people, Hades,” she remarked, looking over her shoulder. “I’ve spent enough time here for it to be more than enough.”

As they headed outside the village, Emet-Selch looked beyond their current path toward the towering peak before them. The volcano, while seemingly quiet now, was clearly amassing great amounts of energy. It was obvious from a mere glance. 

The fire aether churned deep within the heart of it, erratic and destructive. The damage upon its eruption would be catastrophic. He looked toward the village at his back. Which meant that those people, that child-

He had not realized Azem had been watching him closely until she snickered from beside him.

“What?” he asked, looking at her with a frown.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” he insisted, coming to a stop. She sighed and stopped two paces ahead of him, turning toward him, her eyes trained on the village behind him.

“I can see that you reached the same conclusion I did just now, that’s all.”

“And what would that be?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Azem shrugged.

“That we can’t just leave them,” she replied simply. “That we should do what we can.”

“We cannot intercept every single disaster,” he countered. “They could be evacuated. They _should_ be, but you made promises that you possibly cannot keep.”

“Perhaps,” she mused, looking back at him with a soft smile before turning on her heel to continue on. “But the grapes-”

“Oh for the love of-” Emet-Selch groaned, following her with wide strides to catch up. “I cannot _believe_ I got roped into this. Surely I will get censured along with you and merely for a _handful_ of-”

“It’s not the fruit, Hades,” she interjected, her tone suddenly serious. “It’s their homes. Their livelihood. This village is known for its wine, yes, but it also supplies malms around with vegetation from its farms. And should it all be destroyed, what happens next? How do they come back from generations of tending to the soil only for it to be wiped off the star in a single moment? Shouldn’t we, those with the power to do so, do whatever we can?”

Emet-Selch was silent for a long moment, looking at her as they continued on toward the volcano. She knew these people, broken bread with them on numerous nights in her travels. But from the comfort of Amaurot, having no connection to them, the Convocation had written their very lives off as the way of the world. Acknowledged it, recorded it, and moved on to the next matter at hand. 

Exceptions for cases such as these could possibly be afforded, but none of the Fourteen had heeded her words. Because it was not their place to intervene. Such was not their role.

Finally, having absorbed her words and with no counterclaim to offer, he sighed. She was right. 

“You truly are the worst,” he muttered. She turned to him and grinned.

“And yet, for some reason, you still love me,” she teased, nudging his shoulder with her own.

“Quite,” he replied with a shake of his head. “And I question my sanity each and every day.”

They settled into a comfortable, companionable silence then, focused primarily on the long journey ahead to the foot of the volcano. When they finally arrived, Emet-Selch let his eyes travel up its massive form, a heavy and drawn out sigh leaving him.

“We’ll probably need better clothes suited for the climb,” Azem observed, looking at their respective outfits before waving her hand and replacing their robes with more appropriate attire. Emet-Selch looked down at himself with a frown, lifting one leg and then the other to examine the rough-looking material of his trousers before he turned his attention to the long sleeves, fitted at the wrists.

“How did I manage to get myself in this mess?” he lamented, watching as she tilted her head one way and then the other, surveying her options before she shrugged and simply began to climb.

“Oh, come on,” she replied, already up one small ledge after she groaned and pulled herself upward. “It’s not that bad. It’s just this part and the rest looks like it’s an easy climb.”

He snorted at her assessment, but knowing he would not be able to convince her otherwise, Emet-Selch opted to remain silent. Steeling himself, he grabbed hold of the ledge she had just used to hoist herself up and began the climb. 

And finally, after taking turns boosting and pulling the other up the majority of the way, they made it to where the land appeared to soften off into smoother terrain. More manageable. 

As manageable as an uphill climb atop a searing hot volcano with the heat of the sun beating down on them _could_ be.

“Where do you plan to begin?” he asked then, wiping the dirt and ash that had built upon his clothing.

“Up there.”

Emet-Selch followed her finger as she pointed beyond their position at the top of the rocky base, up, up, up until he realized she fully meant to scale the entirety of it.

“Absolutely not,” he said stiffly. 

“I need to be close to the source of the aether to make sure it channels properly,” she insisted. He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes. “You know I’m right.”

“We’ll teleport.” He raised his hand to snap, to create a current for them to the top of the-

“We need to preserve our aether.”

And thus, Emet-Selch found himself trudging along up the side of the volcano, mere fulms behind the woman he apparently, for a reason he could no longer recall through the ache of his muscles and burning of his lungs, loved more than life itself.

“I will surely get censured along with you for this,” he panted for perhaps the fifth time throughout their trek. “Assuming I make it back in once piece.”

Azem rolled her eyes. “Oh, _shut it_ already, you whiny old man,” she muttered, having lost her patience with him four complaints ago.

“Old man- we’re the same age!” he countered, stopping in his tracks to bend at the waist, his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

She came to a stop as well, realizing that she was in much better shape than he and obliging for the moment. 

“Yes, but in comparison to me, you’re so much more…” She gestured vaguely with her hands, trying to find the best word to describe him.

“What? Reasonable? Responsible? Rational? _Sane?_ ”

“No,” she sighed, placing a hand on her hip. “ _Boring_. You _used_ to be fun, once upon a time. Feels like ages ago now. I’m amazed Hythlodaeus suffers your company when I’m not around.”

Emet-Selch looked up at her with indignation, ash smeared across his face. She arched a brow at him, waiting to see what he would say.

He exhaled sharply, his lips a straight, unamused line. Just as she would expect.

“It’s no wonder the previous Elidibus stepped down, acting as you do,” he commented, watching as she narrowed her eyes. “You probably drove him to madness.”

She puffed out her chest. “Or, _perhaps_ , you lot bored him into retirement.” 

Emet-Selch snorted, beginning to take steps up the side of the volcano once more.

“A grand delusion you have there, my love,” he muttered, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

Azem shrugged her shoulders, entirely unphased as she began to follow him up.

“I’m just saying, maybe if you didn’t have a conniption each time I did something-”

Emet-Selch let out a laugh, cutting her short.

“Consider this: if there are at least twelve of us who are disturbed by your actions, perhaps you may be the problem here.”

“Elidibus certainly doesn’t think so,” she said smugly.

“Too unseasoned to know any better,” her soulmate retorted. “He’ll come around.” 

It was not another two steps before Emet-Selch found himself losing his balance on some loose earth and sliding to his knees. He sighed, turning over to sit on the side of the volcano, his breathing heavy. 

Azem came to a stop before him, sighing with her hands on her hips. She shook her head as she watched him lean back on his hands, gasping for air with his eyes trained on the sky.

“You know,” she started, waiting for him to look at her before she continued. When his eyes slowly slid to meet hers, she grinned. “For all that stuffiness, you’re still just as reckless as you used to be.”

He scoffed, looking back toward the sky, the smoke from the volcano mercifully obstructing the sun now as it prepared for its impending eruption. 

“Don’t be absurd.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Her grin widened when his gaze snapped back to hers. 

“I-” Emet-Selch faltered then, for once at a loss of what to say.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she smugly replied, holding her hand out for him to take. “Come along, dear. We have a volcano to best.”


	5. Fight & Heal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uh... I'm sorry.

“Eight in favor, six opposed. A majority has been established.”

Azem’s blood ran cold as the Speaker’s voice rang through the hall. How had so many of them agreed…? _Who_ would agree? She eyed her colleagues warily, trying to get a read for their body language. 

Trying to see who seemed just as distressed as she was. But just as she was sure she presented herself as collected on the outside, none of them seemed to give much away.

“If there is no significant opposition, the plan will be accepted, and we of the Convocation can proceed to the next step.”

Silence. Azem looked across the room toward Emet-Selch, his arms crossed over his chest. He had always been more level-headed than she, could speak more eloquently. 

_Please,_ she begged with her mind. _Say something. Anything._

“Very well. In that case,” Lahabrea began. Azem took a deep breath, steeling herself, but she was unsure what to say. Unsure how to stop them. “We will reconvene upon confirmation of aetheric volume needed to enact the Summoning.”

 _Now_ , she said to herself. _You have to speak now._

“Wait,” Azem said, her voice carrying in the otherwise still hall. Even to her ears, she could hear how nervous she sounded. She cleared her throat.

“Do you have something to contribute, Azem?” the Speaker asked, though his annoyance with her was evident. She had been at odds with many of them, disagreeing at every turn on the next steps to save the star.

“Motion to...” she paused, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat. “We… we have a clause for tallies that are close in number for significant matters. I’d like to move to-”

“This is not a simple law-making meeting, Azem,” the Speaker said coldly. “We cannot afford to waste time squabbling with you over-”

Azem bristled then. She stood from her seat. 

“Speaker, this is _greater_ than a mere policies meeting,” she stated, her voice stronger now. “Thus it only makes sense for us to use the same protocols we would use-”

“ _Protocols?_ ” It was clear Lahabrea was running out of patience. “You dare speak of-”

“Let her speak, Lahabrea,” Elidibus said, speaking calmly from his seat. “She is not wrong. This is, as she put it, a significant matter.”

“Very well,” he bit out, trying to rein in his emotions. “You have the floor.”

“With significant matters that change the lives of the citizen of Amaurot, when we change laws or policies, we require an eighty percent majority,” she said. “The same should apply now.”

“Yes, you’ve made that clear,” Lahabrea replied. “And by simply invoking that rule, you postpone the Summoning.”

“I know,” she whispered, though the silence of the hall allowed it to carry. 

“Do you have a reason? For such a demand? Or is this simply another attempt to do what you wish?”

 _Demand?_ Azem could feel tears sting in her eyes behind her mask. They would not listen to her, not before, not now. She looked down at the ground, felt her lower lip trembling. 

No, she would not back down. She had to stand her ground. She looked up, despite the tear that slipped from her eye, feeling it roll down her cheek, knowing it had undoubtedly caught the light.

“I understand your frustrations with me, Speaker, and they are justified. But know that any of my past dealings are independent of my decision to stand in opposition to your proposal today. I believe, in doing this without attempting to find alternatives, we trade one travesty for another.”

Quiet whispering could be heard from the other members of the Fourteen. 

“We have such limited experience,” she continued, speaking more loudly to compensate for the added noise. “With summoning, my understanding is that the few who have succeeded have themselves been lost.”

“Research is not without risks, Azem,” Lahabrea responded with a slow exhale. “We know enough now to avoid the loss of Summoners.”

“And this is alright with eight of you?” she asked, looking around at her compeers in turn. “That you would ask citizens of our star who look to us for aid and guidance to lay down their lives so that you may live to see another day? Do those of you who agreed with this madness not-”

“Azem,” the Speaker warned. “If you’ve decided to squander your opportunity to speak by shaming the members of the Fourteen-”

“You shame yourselves!” she shouted, the tears finally escaping down her face. “You will survive, while those you ask to die for you will not! This happened because we sat here in our paradisical world, ignoring the signs the star was giving us and-”

“If you do not control yourself, we will have you removed from the meeting.” 

His warning was resolute, his calm voice cutting through her desperation like a knife. Azem seemed to deflate visibly. Her lip trembled.

“How can you not _see_ that this is not the right path?” she nearly pleaded, looking around the room. When she was met with silence, she sighed. “I… I just need someone to second it. We just need a little more time.”

The hall remained still. She looked to those she considered her friends and found that they avoided her gaze. Finally, her eyes landed on Emet-Selch, a deep frown on his lips. 

“Please,” she begged in a whisper, watching as he tensed and shifted in his seat. He shook his head slightly. She raised her hand to her mask to remove it, violently wiping away her tears to look at him yet again, but this time allowing him to see the desperation in her eyes, the intensity of her plea.

Emet-Selch’s jaw clenched, his hands coming to fists. 

“I second the motion,” he said, his voice monotonous, his frustration palpable in the air. 

“We reconvene tomorrow,” the Speaker bit out. Before another word was spoken, Emet-Selch was out of his seat and stepping into a portal. “Meeting adjourned.”

The hall was silent—the air tense. No one seemed to move despite the dismissal for several moments before Elidibus slowly came to a stand and began moving toward the exit. And soon, one by one, the rest followed suit.

And when Azem made her way back to the home she shared with Emet-Selch, the lights were off. Had he not come home?

She took a deep breath, pushing the door open slowly, taking in the stillness of the room, which would ordinarily be filled with their laughter as they entered together. On days she arrived after him, the smell of food would be wafting through from the kitchen.

But instead, she was met with darkness and an overwhelming sense of dread. Had she pushed too far? 

She made her way through the entryway, taking her mask off and lifting her robe to discard it to the side.

“I considered leaving,” she heard his voice say from a corner of the living room when she entered, startling her. The click of his fingers filled the room, and the lights turned on. He was seated on a chair facing the doorway, his robe still on, his mask in his lap.

“Stepping down, packing my things,” he continued. She flinched when he finally made eye contact with her. The disappointment in his expression, the coldness in his gaze. “But, I’m needed for the Summoning.”

“Hades, I’m-”

“How _dare_ you?” he whispered harshly, letting his hold of the mask go, the sound of it clattering to the ground ringing through the silence. “To use my affections for you against me for your own gain?”

“I’m _sorry,_ I-”

“You what? You wanted to get what you wanted? Yet again? Without considering the others?”

“I _was_ considering the others,” she insisted, taking steps toward him but faltering when he shook his head, holding a hand up to tell her to stop. “There must be another way, I just… I think we should keep looking for answers.”

“Where?” he asked with a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “In some more ruins? We searched and searched and _searched_. What more could you hope to find?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” she lamented, her hands going to her hair and tugging as she turned away from him. “Something, _anything_. A sign that might buy us more time-”

“There _is_ no more time! You stall the only chance the star truly has at being saved because you refuse to accept the fact that, for once in your life, you do not have the answer!”

She turned back to see him standing, his chest heaving, his hands clenched in fists at his side. Slowly, her mind began to catch up with everything that had been said, realization dawning in her expression.

“You… you’re needed for the _Summoning_ ?” she breathed, her hand going to her chest. She felt the color drain from her face, felt her heart fall into the pit of her stomach. “All this time, I was wondering _who_ among us would agree to such a plan, and…”

He looked out the window to the side of him. She could see his jaw clench as his eyes slid shut.

“Hades, look at me.”

He sighed, opening his eyes slowly and turning his head toward her. 

“Did… you? Agree?”

His expression hardened, and it was all the answer she needed. She immediately felt her legs weaken, and she crumpled down to sit on the sofa beside her. 

“How could you?” she whispered, her hands clenched together in her lap, shaking from the force, her nails turning white. “All those people…”

“For the star,” he answered calmly, and suddenly she found a heat building in her stomach, rage fueled by the feeling of betrayal she felt wash over her. Of all people, the one she thought she knew most... “A necessary sacrifice for the good of all. It was not an easy choice but-”

“Hades, the people need us to _save_ them, not _use them as fodder_!” She shot up from her seat. “I thought you agreed with me! I thought we were on the _same page_!”

“So you’d put everyone at risk then? To chase a solution that may not even _exist_ when we have one within our reach?”

“I’d rather die knowing I didn’t buy my survival with another’s soul!” she shouted, her aether beginning to churn erratically around her.

His demeanor shifted upon realizing the level of her anger, and he took a small step toward her, holding his hands up, seemingly in surrender. To placate her, to calm her. For some reason, Azem found that it just made her all the more furious.

“I thought going to the volcano changed you, Hades, but I can see you’re exactly the same!” she continued, her voice rising as she pointed her hand at him. “You don’t care for anyone besides yourself! You’re just like the rest of them!” 

But when she swiped her hand down quickly to her side, a burst of aether sprung forth in an arc before her, heading straight for him. She watched with wide eyes as Emet-Selch raised his hand to erect a barrier.

He groaned as the sharp edge of the aether cut into his outstretched palm before being nullified by the protection he created. When the rest of the arc impacted the wall around him and shattered the window, he bent over, holding his hand with the other, a grimace on his expression as he examined his wound.

Immediately, the anger and disappointment toward him dissipated, and Azem flung herself to his side. 

“Let me see,” she demanded urgently, panic in her voice as she examined him from head to toe. She reached to take his hand, forcing him to let her inspect it. 

She raised her free hand to hover above his, white light glowing between them as she cast a healing spell upon the skin, watching it slowly knit the skin back together. But even upon its completion, the skin remained raw, a mark upon the surface. He hissed when she tried to touch it.

“I don’t- I don’t know what happened,” she stammered. “I’m so- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 

“I know,” he whispered as she frowned down at the remaining damage she had caused. “I lost control of my aether two days ago. Hythlodaeus reported similarly last week.”

“So… the reason you voted in favor…”

“Wasn’t because I do not _care_ that we will survive at the cost of the lives of others,” he confirmed with a solemn nod. “It was because if we delay any longer, we risk our only chance rebounding, just as your aether has today.”

Azem went silent as she kept looking at his palm. Tears welled up in her eyes. She had said such _horrible_ things, assumed the worst in him.

“But I will bring them back,” he said, raising his free hand to cup her cheek. “I promise. With time, I will find a way to restore all those we lose in saving the star.”

“I… I cannot agree to the Summoning,” she finally whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “I cannot stay on the Convocation.”

Emet-Selch tensed for a moment before exhaling a slow sigh. 

“I know,” he said, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Do what you must, and know that whenever you return, I will be waiting for you.”


	6. Masks & Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing catch up now that my big exam is done. Day 6! I'm sorry, it's a sad one.
> 
> Thank you again to Eliniel for helping to nurture this terribly sad idea :3

It was a strange feeling, returning home.

On the one hand, she knew things were different now. The star, previously nearly bursting at the seams, falling apart in every way they could imagine, had now come to an eerie stop.

The water ceased to flow. Life did not bloom as it once had. 

She knew, of course, that she should likely stay abroad. That she may not be welcome in Amaurot after her departure from the Convocation. 

But irrespective of that, everywhere she looked there were people who needed her aid. Now, more than ever. Though there were no _new_ monstrosities sprouting out of thin air, aberrant beasts from _before_ still remained. 

It was enough to keep her occupied. Day in and day out, she fought and cleared the way for those who otherwise were unable. And while she was away, she endeavored to try to seek answers.

Even before the world fell still. She had thought she may have been close to at least _an_ answer, a way to stop the hideous beasts from returning even after their defeat, but without enough time to test her hypothesis, ultimately she had found herself empty-handed.

But something… pulled her home. A feeling, instinctual, that she could not explain. Inexplicable dread that she had lost something or someone dear to her.

And so, she found herself standing at the gates of Amaurot. The city’s people busy with the restoration of their home, though they were obviously nervous and scared. Such a calamity had never been seen before, and for it to be followed with such a stark contrast to the chaos…

She could not help but notice that no one seemed to spare her a second glance now. Not that she expected anything different, being one of the masses once again. No longer donning a red mask of the Fourteen, she found she could more easily blend in.

Which suited her quite nicely, if she was being honest. It allowed her to flit in and out of crowds to get a feel for how the others were faring, to see how Hades was doing.

But what she heard had only confirmed her fears, confirmed the knot that formed in the pit of her stomach as soon as the Summoning was completed: something had gone very wrong.

The way the people spoke of the Fourteen now, some with the same gratefulness and respect as before, but others with… disdain? Confusion? Disappointment?

She turned her head toward the Bureau of the Architect, hoping that he would be there, even in the midst of all the changes that had transpired with the destruction wrought to the star. And as she made her way up to his office, the unsettling dread in her stomach only grew. 

The air was different than it had ever been in the wing that led to Emet-Selch’s office. And when she raised her hand to knock on the door, she stopped herself short. His voice flitted through the door and the tone of it, the cadence and rhythm… was different. 

Colder. Just as the air around her seemed to be.

She exhaled a slow breath, steeling herself and gathering her courage before finally letting her knuckles rap against the wood.

“Enter.”

She felt the hair at the back of her neck rise from the sharpness of the word. But when she moved her hand to the knob, ready to push the door, it flew open.

She was startled by the suddenness of it, standing dumbfounded in the doorway to see Emet-Selch standing at the window, completely engrossed in a scroll. Beside him, facing her, was Hythlodaeus.

“Apologies for surprising you, my friend,” he said to her, his voice quiet and cautious. He gave a small nod of his head. “I merely did as I was bid.”

She tilted her head in confusion, only to have the Amaurotine tilt his head toward Emet-Selch. 

She could feel her brow furrow as she finally took a moment to examine the man, taking in the black and purple of his robes, the ornate embellishments different from the plain grey he had once been clad in. The metallic accents caught the light, and as she took in even the shine of his boots, the same motif carried through the entirety of his garb.

Slowly, she felt her surprise wane, came to her senses enough to nod her head and clear her throat.

“It seems… much has changed at home since I’ve been gone,” she observed, speaking barely above a whisper. She found her voice traveled well regardless in the silence of the room.

Hythlodaeus nodded his head.

“Here,” Emet-Selch said, finally speaking since she had come into the room. “This will need to be adjusted before it is presented before the Convocation.”

Hythlodaeus immediately turned his attention to the Architect, whose finger was pointing at the page. She finally took stock of the clawed point to the glove, feeling her eyes widen slightly.

“Understood, Emet-Selch,” Hythlodaeus said with a nod of his head, taking the page carefully. “It would be my pleasure to rectify this before the meeting.”

Emet-Selch nodded with a hum, turning his attention back to the window to peer out at the city, watching the restoration as it unfolded around him under his watchful eye. Hythlodaeus made his way around the desk then, stopping for only a moment to place his hand upon her shoulder before he left the room.

The silence stretched on between them. She shifted her weight anxiously. Where he previously would have stopped his work immediately upon her entry to sweep her into his arms after she returned from a journey, it was as if… he hadn’t even noticed.

She cleared her throat yet again. Watched as his head tilted slightly in her direction to acknowledge that he had heard.

Was he playing a game with her, perhaps? Or… was he angry?

She swallowed the lump that built in her throat, taking the few steps to close the distance between them, stopping just beside him. 

“I’m home, Hades,” she said quietly, her hands lifting to her mask to remove it, placing it beside her on the desk as she usually did.

“So I’ve seen,” he replied simply, his hand on his chin, gaze still trained on the cityscape before him. “Welcome home.”

She winced at the coldness, the distance he created with his tone alone.

“I trust your journey was relatively uneventful,” he commented, finally looking in her direction.

She licked her lips, pursing them slightly before blowing out a slow breath and responding with a small shrug.

“The… star has stopped but the monsters have not,” she replied.

Emet-Selch nodded in understanding, his lips turning down in a frown. 

“An oversight,” he muttered. “I will inform the others.”

“Okay,” she whispered, hesitating for a moment before she lifted her hand to place upon his arm, wanting to feel _him_ for the first time in weeks. He tensed slightly beneath her touch. “New robes?”

“All of us have been bestowed similar garb,” he explained. “We chosen few.”

She felt her brows knit together in confusion. “Chosen few?”

“Lord Zodiark’s Convocation,” he offered in explanation, and the reverence in his voice was not lost on her. The same hint of fanaticism she heard being whispered of in the street.

“Oh,” she whispered. “I see. And… are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, his masked gaze moving down to her hand upon his sleeve. 

She responded with a shrug, unable to voice that he seemed different, that something was wrong and she _knew_ it. With a soft sigh, she began sliding her hand up his arm before lifting the other to slowly lower his hood. Her hands shakily found purchase on his mask, mercifully unchanged from before.

And though he did not tense as she removed it, though she met no resistance when she placed it beside them on the windowsill, she still found herself struggling to meet his eyes with hers. Afraid for a reason she could not yet entirely place.

She opted, instead, to look just below them. In the periphery she could see that they were the same color, and felt the smallest surge of relief fill her. But as her eyes roamed the rest of his face, she took in the indifference of his expression. 

“Are you upset with me? For leaving?”

Emet-Selch shook his head.

“That hardly seems logical,” he said, a hint of the man she was used to peeking through as a corner of his lip pulled upward. “Why would I bother being upset with you if I agreed with your decision to leave?”

She averted her gaze down to the floor, honing in on his boots, trying to push the tears that were threatening to come forth, the corners of her eyes stinging at the completely changed dynamic between them.

“You… didn’t hug me,” she whispered after a moment, the fact that he still hadn’t ringing loudly through her mind. “I thought… maybe you were angry with me.”

The feeling of the cold metal of his glove on her chin startled her and he gently coaxed her to tilt her face upward. When she finally looked up, he tenderly brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. 

“You were gone for quite a long time,” he responded. “And much has changed. I am not upset with you, merely attempting to pick up too many broken pieces at once.”

Immediately, the tension melted out from her limbs and she nodded her head. 

“Come, let us return home,” he said then, with finality, her eyes at last locking with his. “You must be exhausted from your travels.”

And though in a time long since passed, she would have wanted nothing more than to retire to their home together, to fall into the comforting safety of his arms…

What she saw in his eyes gave her pause. 

It was not that she felt he did not care for her, for there was a hint of it there. Buried beneath layers upon layers of something _else._ Lost so far under another force that was overpowering enough that, had she not known what to look for, she likely would have missed it entirely. 

He turned from her, unbothered by the alarm and tension that seeped back into her every muscle. 

This man before her, this shell masquerading as _her Hades_ … was not her soulmate.

Not anymore.

“I… wish to see Hythlodaeus,” she said, quickly and softly, bringing his footfalls to a halt. He looked at her from the doorway.

“You just saw him,” he remarked, a brow arched in a way she would have once wanted. But somehow, this time, it seemed _wrong._ Out of place. 

“He must be busy with what you tasked him with, but I’d like to say good night first,” she lied, her voice trembling slightly. “Before I leave again in the morning. I’ll… meet you at home?”

With a slight incline of his head and naught another word, Emet-Selch was gone.

She felt as if her entire world was ready to tumble down around her, her every limb trembling as she struggled to hold herself together long enough to to sprint down the hallway and down the two flights of stairs to the Chief’s office.

But when she burst through the door without knocking, taking in her friend with his head buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent tears, all of her effort crumbled to the ground along with her as she sank down to her knees.

She gasped for breath, tears that had barely formed already streaming down her face and onto the carpeting of Hythlodaeus’ office. No matter how hard she tried, she felt as if her lungs would not inflate enough, as if her breaths were not deep enough. 

Before she knew it, she was being pulled into a warm embrace, arms wrapping around her and pulling her close. Hythlodaeus shushed her, his hand threading through her hair as he rocked her gently, his face still wet with his own tears as he tucked her head under his chin.

“Wh-what _happened_ to him?” she sobbed, grabbing fistfuls of his robe as she cried into the cloth, her entire body overcome with grief. “He’s not- he’s-”

“I know,” her friend whispered in response, rubbing her back slowly as he took a shaky breath.

“ _How_?” she whimpered. “He- does he not feel emotions as he did? Is he _gone_?”

At these questions, Hythlodaeus pulled back, holding her at arm’s length, searching her expression as she searched his. His eyes were rimmed with red, puffy from the tears that continued to spill forth unbidden.

“He does still feel,” Hythlodaeus said softly, lifting a hand to wipe away her tears and then his own. “Though not as he did. Someone else has taken precedence over all others. Hades as we knew him is no more.”

She felt her face crumple once more at the sheer heartbreak in his eyes, knowing that he would not say such things unless they were true. She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head.

“Which is not to say that you cannot _reach_ Hades,” her friend said fervently, reaching for her wrists to pull her hands down and meet her gaze. “For he is still _there_ , my friend, beneath the bind to Zodiark. You mustn’t let go of him.”

“Have… you interacted with him in a way beyond what I’ve seen?” she asked in a whisper, lamenting the possibility that their only conversations had been business related for the entirety of her absence.

Hythlodaeus nodded quickly. “Yes, that is why I know you can still find _him_ there. If you ask the right questions, if you spend enough time. With time, I believe we can wrestle him slightly out of Zodiark’s grasp so that we may have at least part our dearest friend back.”

The tragedy of it had her quickly overcome with more tears, sobs wracking her entire body as Hythlodaeus offered reassurances. His own tears fell silently as he watched her heart fall to pieces again and again at the realization that her soulmate was essentially lost to her. 

He had grieved the loss of his best friend weeks ago, alone in this office, praying to whomever would listen that she did not return home to see Hades this way. He should have known that such desperate pleas would go unanswered, with how twisted the response to their last prayer had been.

As time passed, he slowly stood, cradling her in his arms before placing her atop the armchair in the corner of his office she would frequent. He had to finish his task before sundown, he informed her, but she was welcome to stay as long as she needed.

And once she had finally seemed to calm, he looked over at her before glancing at the clock. 

“There is time yet,” he whispered. “Before the Convocation gathers. If you’d like to search.”

She chewed on her bottom lip before sighing deeply.

“Alright,” she responded softly, standing on unsteady legs and creating a current that led to their home. “I’ll do my best. I’ll bring him back.”


	7. Forget me not & Eternal Bond

“What are these?”

She could hear his voice flit in from the living room and paused in preparing their dinner. She had not yet entirely gotten used to the change in his voice, the loss of passion that usually filled his words.

“What are what?” she asked, shaking her head quickly to try to dispel the sadness that filled her. It would do her no good, she reminded herself. She just had to do her best, to try to at least _pretend_ , so that she could act the same, and hopefully continue to coax the remnants of her beloved out of… whoever survived the Summoning.

She could hear his footsteps as he approached the room, coming to a stop in the doorway.

“These,” he said, and she braced herself before she turned her head, preparing for the sight of those ornate robes, of the accents and colors that reminded her of everything she was trying to push aside.

She glanced at the vase in his hand, at the small blue flowers she had placed within.

“Forget-me-nots,” she replied as she quickly looked back to the vegetables she was preparing. 

“I’ve never seen them before,” he remarked, and she felt her lips turn down into a frown.

“No, my dearest, you have,” she replied, trying her utmost to keep the disappointment from her voice. “Though… it was but a small accent at the time. At our ceremony.”

He was silent for a moment, but shortly after, she could hear him move further into the kitchen, the soft sound of the vase being placed upon the small table ringing in the tense air of the room.

“In your hair,” he whispered, and her movements stopped short, her breath catching in her throat. “Just a few, peppered throughout the braid.”

Here, in these singular instants, when he recalled their lives _before,_ she could make out hints of the Hades she cherished more than life itself.

Hythlodaeus had told her as much, how to find him. And while it had been burdensome, at first, to dwell with him, to sleep beside him when at times he felt no different than a stranger… moments like these, fleeting though they may be, made her efforts worthwhile.

“Had they been white, perhaps I would have realized it sooner,” he muttered, and she felt the corners of her lips tug upwards at the blatant distaste laced in his words, at the normalcy of his tone, the familiarity of the cadence in his voice.

“It was a long time ago, Hades,” she said, in an attempt to comfort him. “If I hadn’t found these hidden away in the gardens, I wouldn’t have remembered them myself.”

A lie, albeit a small one, but a lie nonetheless. Would he be able to tell?

He hummed, taking a few more steps to stand behind her, placing his chin atop her shoulder and glancing down into the pan as she resumed her preparations.

“You know as well as I do that you, of all people, would not forget such a detail,” he murmured, placing his hands on her hips. “Especially not when you selected those flowers for their name alone.”

She felt torn at the sudden wild beating of her heart, at the longing she felt from his touch alone, her body reacting to the memory of what they had once shared. As he tightened his hold on her, stepping one step closer to press himself flush against her, she could tell he had noticed. She slowly lowered the heat on the stove, her eyes shut tightly as she tried to control her breathing.

“What’s troubling you, my love?” he whispered into her ear, feeling the tension that bled into each of her muscles. A whimper escaped her when she heard his words; how long had it been since he had _called_ her that?

“I’m scared,” she replied softly, deciding to be honest with him, her lower lip trembling slightly. “You… worry me.”

One of his hands slid from her hip, and he gently coaxed her to turn to face him. With an unsteady exhale, she slowly turned in place, lifting her hands to place them upon his shoulders, her thumbs sliding along the metallic embellishments they found there. 

Her eyes still shut, she pressed her forehead to his chest, just below his chin.

“Do I frighten you?” he asked, his hands sliding up and down her sides softly. “Since the Summoning?”

She tensed slightly, before exhaling a slow breath, opening her eyes as she turned her head to the side to listen to his heartbeat.

“Not… in the sense that I worry that you’ll hurt me,” she admitted after a moment. “But yes.”

When he did not negatively react, but instead shifted to wrap his arms around her, cradling the back of her head with one hand, the other splayed across her back, she felt tears spring to her eyes.

“I miss how things were before. I miss... _everything_ , and I feel like I've lost you,” she finally whispered, wrapping her arms around him, grabbing the back of his robe into fists. “I miss _you_.”

“I know,” he replied, the immense sadness in his voice pulling the tears from her eyes. “If I had known-”

He stopped short, shaking his head slightly, his body seeming to tense with the train of thought before he exhaled sharply. 

“Could… you explain it to me?” she asked then, listening to his heart accelerate at whatever had just happened within his mind. “What it’s like?”

He took a slow breath, exhaling through his nose, and with the proximity between their souls, she could almost feel his mind churning.

“I remember before,” he finally said. “How we were. And I know there’s _love_ here, somewhere, for you. But…” She could feel his hand on her back curl into a fist. “When I feel it, when I reach for it, He pulls me back.”

She knew he was speaking of Zodiark. They had discussed Him before, how He whispers to them now, how He commands them to do His bidding.

“Why?” she whispered, releasing his robe from her fingers and soothingly rubbing his back. “It’s not like I can _take_ you from Him.”

“Perhaps not entirely,” he responded, his body beginning to shake, the words unsteady as he seemed to struggle to speak them. “But your soul and mine… the connection between them…”

He trailed off, and she nodded her head slowly. The Eternal Bond seemed to, at least slightly, intervene with total control, which could be, perhaps, why Hades seemed… less fanatical than the others. Such was Hythlodaeus’ theory, as well.

She slowly released her hold on him, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, standing on her toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek, her hand on the back of his head as she pulled him close again. “I know.”

“No, I want to _show_ you,” he whispered fervently, turning his head slightly, so his lips hovered over hers. Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting to exhale against his.

She started to shake her head, unsure, unready. She had, in truth, avoided intimacy since her return. Scared that the experience would be ruined, that whatever had happened to his soul would prevent him from connecting with her. Such a disappointment she would not be able to handle, not yet. So each time he tried, she would find ways to disengage, to steer their interactions in a different direction entirely.

But then she took in the genuine sorrow that danced in his eyes at the realization that she would, perhaps, push him away once more. The pain that overcame his expression as he pulled back ever-so-slightly in preparation for her inevitable redirection.

Before she could stop herself, before she allowed herself to give in to her uncertainty, she surged forward and pressed her lips against his. _Please_ , she begged, but to whom she did not know. _Please let us share this just one more time_.

It took him only a moment, but when he overcame his surprise, he immediately relaxed, bringing his hands to either side of her face, kissing her with a desperation that nearly took her breath away. 

Slowly, steadily, as the kiss deepened, as she leaned in closer to him, she could feel his soul pulsating against hers, feel the conduit between them open bit by bit. Had _she_ been keeping _him_ out? Had it been here all along?

Yes, she realized, she had been. All this time, he had been attempting to show her in the only way he could find… that beneath Zodiark’s claim, Hades was not entirely lost. 

The way he would brush his hand against hers when they slipped out of bed in the morning. The way he would straighten her mask. Small actions that she dismissed as habits; had they been unspoken attempts to reach her? To make her trust him again? To let him in?

Tears slid down her cheeks, a choked sob slipping out against his mouth as she threw her arms around him, feeling the love that he _could_ reach within himself flood the connection between them. 

Yes, it was muted, but it was _there_. For now, as she fell further into his arms, the fact that it was still real gave her a glimmer of hope. 

And… despite her heartbreak at the loss of his freedom, at the fact that he was clearly struggling… for now, this was more than enough.


End file.
